


Periphery

by Santi_C



Category: Hollyoaks
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Maternal Instinct, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-10-31 20:48:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17856752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Santi_C/pseuds/Santi_C
Summary: Sally St. Claire wants to help James Nightingale following a confrontation with Mac.[Niche af but in case anyone liked their dynamic]





	Periphery

Sally watched James and Mac Nightingale's exchange from a distance. Their voices weren't raised – they would carry from where they stood in relation to her – but James was animated, gesturing wildly while Mac on the other hand remained calm, his eyes widening a couple of times and an awful smirk on his face. It had been a long time since she'd encountered James stood outside The Dog after Mac had assaulted her. She knew exactly what Mac could be like; not only had he punched her, called her a man, but he'd killed her best friend and tormented a teenager over it. His sadism stretched back decades, something she'd only properly realised when James had confided in her, opening up uncharacteristically. He'd been calm but his desperation was clear and perhaps for the first time, she'd pitied him. If she were honest, she'd not known what to make of him before then – they'd had their own run-ins – but she hated bullies and knew that not only was he a victim, but that his bully hadn't tired of making his life a misery. 

Sally knew what it was like to be on the other side of it, it had been a long and regular feature of her life. People would tell her to ignore the small-mindedness but even if she could, and of course she tried, she resented having to. It was entirely irrelevant to other people how she identified inside, what clothes she wore, how she expressed herself, but they could never let it rest. People like that didn't want to let her live her own life or feel a modicum of comfort in who she was. Mac was brutal and unapologetic with it and she almost couldn't blame James for wanting him gone for good, almost because he'd tried to put that responsibility in the hands of a grieving adolescent. He was clearly so lost, so tired of having to endure a father who would torture him simply for being gay, for being – in Mac's eyes – too effeminate. It was ridiculous but so many parents saw their children as extensions of themselves and if they weren't the way they wanted them to be, they could be inordinately cruel. She dealt with the consequences every day, the school dotted with children who were neglected, belittled or worse. 

Her mind returned to the present, her eyes still on the two men fifty yards away. James' hands were balled up into fists but only in impotent frustration; Mac seemed more confident than a minute ago and he spoke his final words into James' ear before limping off triumphantly, his cane a mere accessory. She was in two minds for a minute over whether to go over but instead James came in her direction, seemingly unaware of her until he was three feet away. Her concern must have showed on her face because James' quickly contorted. “Enjoy the show?” he said brusquely walking past her. 

“James, no, wait. Are you okay?”

His expression was clear as day, he thought the question too absurd to answer, but he didn't hit out. Rather he thrust his hands into his pockets and made a swift exit. 

Every instinct told her to reach out to him, stop him leaving, give him a hug if he'd let her but she let him go. James likely wouldn't react well if he felt both humiliated and trapped. She knew too well how that felt. 

-

A 5pm finish, Sally smiled to herself at the luxury. She fancied lying in the bath for an hour, bubbles, bath salts, the lot. As she got closer to home, she could see Harry across the way. Part of her was desperate for a soak but she wanted to check on James and she knew they were an item now. She'd seen them a couple of times out in town, not overtly affectionate but relaxed and content in a way that suggested intimacy rather than friendship. As she neared him, she called his name, smiling. He smiled back. 

“You okay? How's James? Have you seen him?”

“I saw him this morning,” he said, his smile widening. “Why?”

“So you haven't seen him this afternoon?”

“No, he's been at work. It's only just gone five.”

“It's just...” Sally wondered whether she was worrying too much but she felt uncomfortable leaving it there. “I saw him talking with Mac earlier on and he seemed upset.”

Harry's face suddenly switched, his eyes full of concern. He slid his phone from his pocket, James' number a shortcut on his homescreen. When it went to voicemail, Harry reasoned it was just because he was busy but he seemed unconvinced. “I should probably head home so I'm there when he gets back.” 

-

Sally hoped everything would be okay but knew she could do nothing more so she detoured to pick up some wine to enjoy with her bath when she spotted James up on the walls, resting his arms on the bars and looking into middle distance, seemingly lost in thought. She walked over and up the steps, James shifting uncomfortably as he clocked her. He didn't refocus his gaze as she got to him but he shifted his weight to the other leg in acknowledgement. 

“You alright, pet?” she asked, not wanting to patronise him but confident he felt a maternal quality in her that made him less likely to react in a way he may with others. “I bumped into Harry just before. He's waiting for you at home.”

A small smile appeared on James' face but it wasn't a happy one.

“Why don't you go see him?”

“There are six people living in my flat and I'm really not in the mood to see anyone.”

“Even Harry? He might be worried.”

James suddenly turned his head and gave her a piercing look. “And why would he be worried? Unless you blabbed.”

“I only said I'd seen you with Mac this morning.”

“Only? You had one snippet of gossip and you couldn't even hold on to that.”

“I was worried and, well, it's clear he cares about you.”

“And?”

“And so you don't need to handle this alone.”

“It might come as a shock to you, Sally,” James struggling to keep the cool tone out of his voice now. “But perhaps there are some things I don't want others involved in.”

“Fine, if you don't want to talk to someone close to you right now, I understand. But don't let that man win; remember, I know what a monster he is, I know how he can make people feel.”

James stopped short of correcting her and instead decided to make use of the fact there was indeed a distance. He knew Harry would want to make him feel better but all he desired right now was to feel worse, to invite the dark in, to indulge that other side to him. He didn't want to drag Harry into that. “He just... he has this way of making you feel two feet tall. I wish I was immune to it, but...” He made a gesture of futility and clasped his hands together looking out onto the village again.

“I know. He enjoys pushing people's buttons, he enjoys hurting people. It doesn't make you weak. It makes him weak.”

James scoffed. 

Sally put her hand over his, squeezing his knuckles. “He's got this far manipulating people, but you've got quite the wolf pack now. You telling me the people in your flat wouldn't fight your corner?”

James didn't want them to and somehow, he conveyed that without saying anything.

“I know you might want to protect them, or that you're used to dealing with this alone, but if the tables were turned, if it was Harry in your place, would you want him to fight this by himself or would you be by his side in a second?”

“I know he would do that for me, that's the problem. Mac always ends up on top. Always. Why would I put Harry in danger? Or anyone else for that matter...”

“They'll suffer if you suffer," she said, earnestly. "Go home, James. There are people who love you.” She gave his hand one last squeeze before walking off, looking up at him as she descended the steps, willing him to take her advice but he stayed leant over the railing as the light faded from the sky, his troubles never leaving his brow.


End file.
